


Bookstore Cats

by LostGirl



Series: Kitty!Verse [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cats, Fluff, Humor, I Don't Even Know, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 06:07:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2258652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostGirl/pseuds/LostGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spilled food, visits from dogs, and scheming kittens, Rupert's life at the bookstore is never boring.  Plus, there's Wesley, so it's never chilly, either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bookstore Cats

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All things BtVS and AtS belong to Joss Whedon and various corporate entities. 
> 
> Um, it's a (mostly) cat AU. Don't look at me that way! It's Gator's and Sophia's faults, and Taffy's! They get all the ~~credit~~ blame. ;-)

Rupert posed atop a pile of precariously balanced books.  He crossed one blue-grey paw over the other, putting on his most superior, all-knowing glare as he watched the two kittens clamor up the bookcase on the opposite wall.  His eyes fell on Wesley, who lagged behind the kittens, scolding them as he labored onto the second shelf.

Faith made a misstep, her black-furred body jolting Buffy, who stumbled over a book.  The book crashed off the shelf and to the floor, narrowly missing Wesley.  Wesley hissed, body-fur puffing out and spiking along his tail.

 _Watch yourselves!_   Wes grumbled and prowled a bit farther down the shelves to avoid another such incident.

 _Didn't see it,_ Buffy meowed without looking back, walking along the fifth shelf until she came to some books that stuck out enough for her to use them as steps up to the sixth.

The bell about the shop door rang.  Rupert didn't let his expression change as he turned to watch Willow and Tara, the shopkeepers, entering.  He stood slowly, waiting to be noticed and greeted.

"Oh!  Kitties, you shouldn't be climbing up there.  You'll pull a book onto your little heads."  Tara chided softly, pulling Buffy down from the shelf.

 _Or someone else's,_ Wesley grumbled and Rupert watched him as he went to twine about Willow's legs.

Rupert still had not had his greeting.

"Oh, they did knock off a book."  Willow leaned down to pick it up and put it back on the shelf.

Tired of waiting, Rupert leapt from the pile of books, sending them crashing onto the counter.  Both Willow and Tara turned with surprised looks, startled by the noise.  Rupert became extremely interested in cleaning his paw.

"Rupert," Tara said softly, giving him a small frown.

"Sorry, sweetie.  I shouldn't have let those books pile up that way."  Willow pulled Faith down from the shelf upon which she'd climbed.

Faith squeaked, struggling against Willow and lashing out.  Willow dropped Faith onto the floor, pouting slightly at the scratches and small tooth indentations on her finger.  Rupert gave up on getting his morning greeting when Tara leaned in to kiss Willow's finger.  Hopping down to the floor, he joined Wesley by the food dishes, waiting to be fed fresh cat food.

Faith ran up to them, attempting to slide to a halt and instead nearly flipping herself over.  She ignored their looks and began meowing loudly as she rubbed against the food bowls.  _When are they gonna feed us?_

"Oh, hungry little kitten, are you?"  Tara asked with a smile.

"Explains why she tried to eat my finger," Willow groused good naturedly, affection suffusing her voice though she was still pouting slightly.  Tara laughed, putting Buffy on the floor.  "Why don't we go put a band-aid on your poor finger?  Then we'll feed our furballs."

 _I'm hungry!_ Faith meowed piteously.

"I'll do the bandaging and you feed the kitties," Willow revised, rolling her eyes at the kittens.

Rupert ignored them, or attempted to until they began to spar in the food dishes, knocking old food over both Wesley and himself.

 _That is no way to behave--_ he began only to get the water dish flipped over onto his paws.  Hissing slightly, he jumped away, shaking a wet paw.  Wesley ambled over, butting his head against Rupert's shoulder and glaring at the kittens.

 _And what was the climbing about, I ask you,_ Rupert said, sitting down and continuing to glare at the kittens as he cleaned his poor, wet foot.  Buffy and Faith, their contrite looks obviously put on, at least moved out of the food bowls.

 _Yes.  It is highly improper to be capering about on the shelves and you two--_ Wesley didn't get any further before Buffy turned her back on him.  Faith had been ignoring him all along, except for the rude gestures she made with her tail.

 _We were training,_ Buffy said, flipping over on her side in front of Giles.  _For when the dogs come in.  We're going to pounce on them from the shelves, so that we can protect you!_

 _Yeah,_ Faith agreed, batting her paw at the spilled water.  _'Cause we're supposed to be thoughtful of the elderly._   Before Rupert could comment, Faith turned and disappeared into the backroom where the shopkeepers had gone.

Rupert shook his head fondly at Buffy.  Looking up when Tara emerged from the backroom carrying the bag in which their food was kept.  He and Wesley twined about her legs as she poured some out into each of their bowls.  Faith charged out of the back room, heading straight for the food bowls and jumping over Wesley in her hurry.  She sat in Wesley's food as she ate her own.

Wesley sighed.  It was nothing new.  Still, Rupert had to stifle a snicker as he bent to eat his own food.  He'd have shared, of course, but that wasn't what Wesley wanted.

 _I can't eat that now!_   Wesley meowed.  Faith stepped out of the bowl, her foot hitting the edge and tipping it.  _Faith!_

His second meow caught Tara's attention.  She bent and scooped Wesley up, petting him.

"Did those naughty kittens knock over your food again?"  From the crook of her arm, Wesley glared smugly at the kittens.  "You two should be nicer to Wesley.  He may be the new cat, but he's here to stay," Tara told Buffy and Faith who ignored her completely, gobbling down their own food.

Rupert gave Wesley an exasperated look, muttering _sell out_ under his breath before he went to sit in the window while Wesley was fed on the counter next to the cash register.  He must have dozed a bit.  He woke to the sound of the bell over the door ringing.  Standing, he watched as Xander tried to wrestle Angel into the store.  The bulldog was always a bit wary, whereas Spike--the Jack Russell--charged in barking threats and bouncing about.

_Where are those little fur-snacks?  I'll rip 'em to shreds and bath in their blood and--_

Tuning out Spike's rant, Rupert hopped down from his window onto one of the book laden tables and made his way over to Wesley.  He bumped Wes in the shoulder with his head and then licked at one ear.  Wesley couldn't have slept through Spike's barking, but he liked to pretend that the mere barking of a dog didn't even register on his senses.  He opened his eyes at Rupert's head butt.

Rupert and Wesley went to sit primly at the edge of the books, looking down as Xander sighed and hauled Angel inside the shop.  Faith and Buffy sprang off the lowers shelves of one of the bookcases, buzzing the dogs and quickly getting out of reach.

"Damn," Xander growled as he shortened Spike's leash.

"Hey, Xan!" Willow said brightly from her spot behind the register.  Tara came out from the backroom at the noise.

"Don't 'hey, Xan,' me," Xander grumbled when he got to the counter.  Rupert jumped onto it, followed closely by Wesley.  Though, he dodged the hand Tara automatically reached out to pet him.

 _Oh, don't pretend you're above being petted,_ Wesley meowed softly, pushing most of his head into Tara's palm.  _I've seen you sprawling on the desk in the backroom when you think no one's--_

Rupert gave Wesley a glare and sat down on the counter, cleaning his paw.  _You're quite mistaken.  I don't do petting.  I might, occasionally, interfere with their walking, but I don't get petted.  And I don't purr._

Wesley snorted, moving past him to collect petting from Willow as well.  _At least you don't in front of anyone else,_ Wesley snarked, sitting down next to Rupert and ignoring the glare he received for that remark.  Their tails twitched against one another.

"And there you two are, you . . . you cats!  Sitting there and looking all calm and vaguely dignified.  I know you did it."

"Xander?"  Willow asked, her tone slightly worried.  "Um, are you feeling okay?"

"You keep those cats away, Will!  They're bad influences on my dogs," Xander said, his voice quick.  "They made my dogs gay!"  Willow's eyebrows shot up and Rupert ducked his head and swallowed his laugh.  Wesley wasn't so quick.  Xander looked down at the sneeze-like noise.  The man apparently didn't hear the bell over the door ring as Anya came inside.  "You put them up to it, didn't you?  I know you did, you . . . you cats!"

"Xander, they're dogs." Anya cut in.  Rupert glanced over his shoulder to find Tara obviously trying not to laugh and Willow still, apparently, stunned.

"I meant Rupes and Wes," Xander explain.

"Oh, yes.  They're definitely cats."  Anya leaned up against the counter, nodding a greeting to Willow and Tara.  "As for Angel and Spike, who cares if they're gay, I hear that's good in show business."

"Anya--" Willow began after a sigh, only to have Xander interrupt.

"We are not putting them in dog shows," he said, as if he'd said it a million times.  "They're just dogs, Anya.  Just . . . can't we just have dogs?  I mean, I let you name mine and everything and--what kind of girly name is Angel, anyway?"

"I think it's a nice name," Tara put in, reaching down to pat Angel's drooping head.  The dog had lain down, glaring every now and again at the kittens as Buffy and Faith taunted them from just out of reach.  Spike, on the other hand, was at the end of his leash, barking and growling and near to choking himself on his own collar.

 _Look at the pretty hat!_   Faith called at the dog.  Rupert glanced down to find that Anya had indeed dressed Spike in another sweater and hat combination.  Instead of commenting, he cleaned his paw.

 _That pink sweater's so pretty with your complexion,_ Buffy called and Rupert was not sure whether or not she meant it.  He could rarely tell with Buffy.

"He's a bulldog, Tara!" Xander replied with an exasperated tone.  "He should be named Killer or-or Crusher or . . . not _Angel_!"

Willow and Tara were both trying not to laugh now, small snickers escaping.

"Well, he answers to Angel, so that's his name."  Anya sighed, reaching out to pet Rupert.  Rupert ducked her hand.  She gave him a look and then petted Wesley instead.  "Besides, even if we don't put them in dog shows, I don't want to have them neutered.  It's mean and cruel and--"

"It's sensible," Willow replied, shrugging at Anya's glare.  "There's an over population of animals, Anya.  Would you want any little puppies to be homeless or-or have to go to shelters?  If they get out they could get another dog pregnant--"

"Fat chance of that," Xander grumbled.

"Xander."  Willow, Tara and Anya all snapped it at once, all in the same tone.  Rupert was impressed.  It took years to become that coordinated.

Anya looked back to Willow, sighing.  "Well, Spike did manage to escape from Riley's obedience classes.  But I got a whistle out of it!  I'm trying to train him to be a good dog."

"He's not very bright though," Xander snickered.

"He's very bright, just . . . easily distracted," Anya defended, glancing down at Spike, who was currently lying on the floor staring intently at the kittens.  Faith made a pass almost within his reach and Spike was up on his feet again, barking madly.

Xander laughed.  "Angel's smarter.  Aren't you, boy?"  He reached down to pat Angel's head. "Well, at least he's quiet," Xander said with a shrug when the dog looked up at him with a put-upon expression.

"Spike, be quiet, boy," Anya tried.  Of course, Spike ignored her completely.  She pulled a whistle from around her neck and blew it.

Rupert cringed at the piercing sound, turning and running for the safety of the backroom, Wesley quick on his tail.  The kittens meowed angrily, calling Anya several names.  He had to dash around Spike, who had cringed, whimpered and then began to actually behave himself.

Rupert made it into the back room and went to the farthest corner, jumping up onto the desk.  The sound had stopped, but he thought that was more due to Anya's ceasing than the distance he'd put between them.

Shaking his head to try and get the ringing out his ears, he glanced up as Wesley landed on the desktop, coming to lie down beside him.

_What was that horrendous sound?  Why would anyone want to make that kind of racket?_

_I don't think the humans can hear it,_ Rupert muttered, leaning into the licks Wesley gave his ear.  His eyes slid closed just a bit.

He ignored Buffy and Faith as they padded over to the cabinet and small kitchenette.  He'd already warned them twice that the teakettle was hot and if they burned themselves on it, perhaps they'd finally learn.

Rupert let his eyes slide all the way shut, leaning his head down so that Wesley could get that spot right between his ears.  He might have dozed again.  This time it was a clatter of sound and two drawn out yowls that woke him.

He startled up to find the kittens sitting on the floor, food from a ripped bag hanging half out of the highest cabinet poured down on their heads, building up in a small pile around two falsely contrite kittens.  He glanced out the open door between rooms, noting the height of the bookcase the kittens had been "training" on before he looked back to them.  Rupert huffed, opening his mouth to begin a lecture and then simply shook his head and muttering, _Training to protect us from dogs my arse._

Turning, he licked Wesley's shoulder and if he purred when Wesley continued cleaning him, it was only to show Wes when he'd hit the right spot.


End file.
